


Treading Water

by evanderblake, HanaTheMighty



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magicians, Alternate Universe - No Band, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asphyxiation, Brief character death, Collaboration, Dehydration, Drowning, Escapism, Established Relationship, F/M, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Illusions, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Magicians, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Restraints, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-01 08:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14516346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanderblake/pseuds/evanderblake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanaTheMighty/pseuds/HanaTheMighty
Summary: He would never get used to this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Evander and I are so excited to finally be able to bring this story to you all. We've been working on it since March, tossing back and forth concepts and writing together-- it's been an amazing time, and I'm so excited that I get to share this with them, and with you guys.
> 
> All odd chapters are by Evander. All even chapters are by Hana.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this series as much as we do. Lots of love!  
> -Hana

He would never get used to this.

The way the smooth, black tux clung to his body, how the tailcoat flowed behind him, how the lemon-yellow vest popped from beneath the dark coat with a matching tie, still untucked from his outfit, and his top hat…

It felt like the first performance all over again, even if they were about to celebrate their 5-year anniversary with a big, fancy tour. 30 different cities, 32 days on the road, and they were both ecstatic, already packed and ready to leave even though the trip was still months away.

He hadn’t realized he was staring blankly at Brian until he saw the man waving a hand in front of his face.

“You okay there, buddy?” Brian asked, masking a laugh. He had finished getting ready, and had even done his makeup -- the golden, glittery eyeliner sparkling on his waterline. Dan reached out, grasping onto his loose tie and pulling him closer.

“Just thinking about your cute ass, that’s all,” Dan murmured quietly just before pressing his lips to Brian’s. Just like every time before, he felt the butterflies building in his stomach, felt the electricity coursing through his veins. He didn’t want it to end. He never wanted it to end.

Brian hummed against his lips before pulling back. “Baby, we gotta get you dressed. You can’t walk out in your boxers.”

Dan stepped back, remembering that he was almost completely naked. “You… mean I can’t perform like this?”

Brian snorted and shoved Dan’s shoulder. “Get dressed, you jackass. We’ve got a show to put on.”

The two giggled as Dan turned around to look at his gown hanging on a rack in their dressing room. A beautiful, black dress hung there, sparkling in the low light of the room. Dan loved that dress more than any other, loved the way it accentuated his hips, showed his thin figure. It made him feel beautiful, even if it was only as a joke.

“We’re still tasting wedding cakes this weekend right?” Dan asked as he began to shimmy into the tight dress. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to fit into my dresses after that. This one is pretty--” he tried desperately to zip up the dress, but he couldn’t quite reach…

Brian walked up behind him and finished zipping the dress, then lightly kissed the top of his shoulder. “Tight,” he mumbled against Dan’s neck.

He shivered.

“I cleared our whole schedule this weekend,” Brian continued, turning Dan around in his arms to hug him closer, admiring the fit of the dress, how gorgeous he looked in the strained fabric. “And yeah, this dress is pretty, but you’re a twig and you should be eating more.”

Dan just rolled his eyes with a crooked grin. “Whatever, I wanna be able to wear this one after our performance tonight.”

Brian squeezed his hips before returning to Dan’s neck, nipping softly all the way down to his shoulder. “I think I want you to wear this again, too,” Brian whispered before moving up to his lips, their mouths moving together rhythmically. Everything with Dan felt musical, like there was always a song playing when they were together. Dan clutched at the back of Brian’s neck, desperately trying to pull him closer, to savor every moment they had together. For a second, they pulled apart, each of them gasping for air as if it would be their last breath. Dan’s deep, brown eyes locked onto Brian’s clear, blue ones -- a look of desire, of questioning, of love. 

“Come on. Let’s finish your makeup so I can ruin it after the show,” Brian whispered, slow and softly into his lover’s ear before placing a single, gentle kiss on his jawline. 

\---

The stage looked so desolate, the curtain still lowered to hide any set preparations before the show, causing the stage to be dark, almost too dark. The moments before a show made Brian feel… exhilarated. He was breathless with the sight of the heavy, red curtain hanging before him -- such a thin barrier between himself and the raving audience just feet away. He centered himself in the middle of the stage, directly beneath a spotlight that would shine on him the moment the curtain disappeared. All around him, stagehands were running in every direction, carrying props or electrical equipment or towels… and in front of him, the makeup artist was applying a light layer of powder to his face, smoothing out any flaws or imperfections on his skin before he appeared in front of hundreds. 

Dan was standing behind Brian, clinging to his back, his chin resting on his shoulder. “Are you nervous?” Dan whispered, wrapping his arms around Brian’s waist to button his overcoat. 

Brian hummed softly, turning his head to kiss the side of Dan’s long, curly hair. “With you here next to me? How could I be nervous?”

He didn’t need to see Dan’s face to know he was smiling, that his face was turning red, that if he wasn’t wearing makeup, he would have buried his face in Brian’s shoulder. However, he knew his layers of foundation and concealer would smear onto his pristine black tuxedo, and then… well, Brian didn’t get particularly angry last time, but he certainly wasn’t happy.

The makeup artist walked away, and Brian thanked her quietly before breaking from Dan’s clutches to turn and face him. 

“How do I look?” he asked with an exceedingly proud smile.

Dan raked his eyes down Brian, head to his toes, admiring every little thing about him. Everything about his appearance was smooth and dark, except for the pop of yellow beneath his jacket and the band around his top hat to match his vest. As always, he was breathtakingly handsome, and he wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. After all these years together, he still couldn’t believe that they had made it this far, that the excitement and the spark hadn’t faded like so many previous relationships. 

“I can’t believe I get to marry you,” he finally said, breathless.

Brian flashed him a dazzling smile before kissing his forehead, mumbling, “I love you,” against his skin. Recentering himself on the stage, he prepared for the show to begin. 

Dan scuttled backstage quickly, watching as the platform cleared of all people except his fiancé, who was standing confidently, awaiting the moment of his reveal. The makeup artist quickly took to Dan, powdering his face, cleaning up his eyeliner and lipstick, smoothing out his curls and brushing off his dress of any lint or powder that lingered there. 

“Do I… look okay?” Dan whispered to the woman, brushing his curls out of his face gently. Even if Brian was the embodiment of confidence, Dan would never cease to be nervous before a show, especially with how revealing his outfits could be. Even in his act, he wore skin-tight spandex, which was not quite flattering, either. Not to him, at least. The crowd always seemed to love the more scandalous outfits… but Dan was still getting used to them.

The woman nodded once, giving Dan the affirmation he was craving. They both shared a simple smile with one another, almost as if they were wishing each other the best, though only Dan had anything to worry about.

From the stage, Brian looked to the curtain, the one thing that hid him from the audience. Everyone was already roaring with cheers and shouts of celebration, clapping-- some even stomping their feet and jumping, or so it sounded. It made him smile every time, taking in all the sounds of their fans and their obvious love for the show. He turned his head from the microphone in front of him, clearing his throat, and pulled it from the stand. He tapped his fingers on it twice, making sure it worked, and effectively silencing the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Brian began in a low, booming voice, “It is my pleasure to welcome you to the best night of your life.”

The audience went nuts, hooting and hollering and clapping like crazy. The curtain slowly began to rise, revealing Brian on the stage, looking as stunning as ever, and wearing a confident smile to greet everyone. 

“To all our newcomers: welcome to Ninja Sex Party’s Magical Extravaganza! I am Brian Wecht, and my plan for tonight is to amaze you with things never before seen!” Brian announced proudly, puffing out his chest slightly. “Tonight you will be witness to a variety of different tricks, illusions, and near-death experiences!”

The crowd cheered and clapped, some of the more enthusiastic fans even bothering to stand up. Brian relished in the sound for a moment, even looking off stage momentarily to make eye contact with his partner. The glistening, joyous eyes to his right showed that he, too, realized what the crowd meant. This was all for them.

Before he could become too enraptured in the noise, Brian looked back to the audience and raised his hand. They were instantly silenced, and Brian cleared his throat once more.

“Now,” he began, “I could do the show on my own here...”

The crowd boomed with groans and shouts, arguing him on his statement. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he took the attention again.

“However, my shows are far too spectacular to be done alone. I need someone to help me with my performances-- and who better to help me than the sexiest, most beautiful man I know… Daniel Avidan!”

The crowd resumed their applause, as though it had only been put on pause. More people stood, the cheers became louder, and Brian turned to his fiancé in pride. Dan’s face had lit up, his facade of showmanship completely melted away by amazement.

“Baby, come on,” Brian encouraged softly, a smirk on his face. Dan brushed his dress down, making sure there were no spots of lint or dust, and held his hand forward to Brian pretentiously, as though he were a princess expecting her hand to be kissed. Brian rolled his eyes slightly before walking to the edge of the stage. He took Dan’s hand in his own and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, feeling his own blush on his skin, before intertwining their fingers. 

“Ready?” Brian whispered, hardly audible over the sound. 

“I’m always ready,” Dan responded. They shared a nod, held each other’s hands tighter, and moved outward onto the stage.

Brian couldn’t help but watch his fiancé’s face light up as he stared at the audience. It was perhaps his favorite moment of the show-- they’d been doing this for nearly a decade, and yet, the moment never changed. The way he smiled, his caramel eyes glistening under the spotlight, unshed tears of joy welling there, the remnants of flustered blush on his cheeks. The way his grip subconsciously tightened, as though to remind himself that Brian was there with him, experiencing this.

God, Dan was so gorgeous. It left Brian breathless every day.

As the crowd died down on their own, their showman’s personas arose from the shadows, taking form in their bodies like ghosts. Dan crossed one leg in front of the other, seductively posing for the crowd, and Brian straightened his shoulders so that they were even with his hips. Their hands slid apart, albeit hesitantly.

“Welcome to the show!” Dan cheered. God, his voice seemed to smite Brian on impact. The ghost of his persona even slipping from his body momentarily.

The crowd roared once again.

After a quick rundown of the show and a few funny one-liners, the curtain closed to set the stage. 

Their illusions were known for being quite cliche. Most of them were things you could see at any old magic show, but the reason they became so popular was because of their comedic twist. Sure, if you had never seen the tricks performed before it was quite astounding to watch Brian saw Dan in half, especially if you were a child. However, it was more of a comedy act than anything else. From a parent’s perspective, it was obvious how the trick was performed, how Dan’s body was sawed in half and pieced back together. 

Things seemed to only get more intense with each trick. Each illusion started out with a series of jokes and playful banter, leading up to the climax. The second illusion they performed showed Dan being lowered onto and balanced on the tip of a spike, the sharp spike centered in the middle of Dan’s back. And for a moment he stayed there, but the next he dropped, and the spike shot straight through his abdomen. He definitely appeared dead, the tip of the spike even appearing to be covered in blood, but Brian magically brought him back to life, lifting him off the spike and into his arms, his “lifeless body” limp against his chest. Brian placed an unbelievably gentle kiss against Dan’s supposedly dead lips, and in an instant Dan was gasping dramatically, alive once again. The audience roared, the kids screamed and clapped, and Dan and Brian bowed on stage. 

The last trick was perhaps their easiest, something Brian had learned to do simply from watching others. It was the trick that turned him into “Ninja Brian,” making it appear as though he had some sort of hidden knowledge. It was a fan favorite, especially among the children in the audience.

A stool was placed in the center of the stage, and Brian quickly seated himself, crossing his legs and sitting comfortably as Dan took his position next to him. He had to focus, had to clear his mind so that he could examine every little thing Dan was doing. This was the one trick where he had to pay extra close attention to every detail, any shift in pitch in Dan’s voice, every step he took, it was all key to the success of the trick. And for once, Dan didn’t have to do a single thing besides be himself. Maybe that’s why this trick was one of Brian’s favorites.

The curtain parted once again and revealed the two magicians, posed confidently side-by-side. The audience cheered once more, and those who had seen the show before grew louder, knowing what trick was about to be performed.

“For our final illusion, my lovely assistant here will be roaming through the audience, and picking some volunteers!” Brian announced with a grin, watching as children all over the room began jumping and raising their hands. 

“But first,” Dan interrupted the applause by raising his hand, then moving behind Brian, a piece of black cloth in his other hand, “We need to make sure our lovely Ninja Brian can’t see anything.”

Brian sighed dramatically as Dan tied the blindfold in front of his eyes, blocking out all of his vision and leaving him entirely blind on the bench where he was seated. Dan made a gesture as he stepped to the side, a cue for the audience to applaud once more. 

Dan then descended the stairs leading off the stage and into the sea of people, watching as hands shot up all around him, nearly everyone volunteering to be led on stage, to be victim to one of their mind-boggling tricks. From on stage, Brian continued explaining as best he could how the trick would work. 

Dan had to choose three people. They couldn’t all be kids, though Dan wished they could be. The kids always had the best reactions.

He found a little boy in the front row who was probably only about six or seven. He had big, bluish-green eyes and freckles that spotted his whole face, along with a smile that could have cured disease. He was one of the few kids still seated, his hand raised patiently. Dan could see a look in his eyes, pure excitement contained in his beautiful irises. In the boy’s hands was an old, tattered teddy bear, missing an eye and entirely discolored. He felt his heart swell as he gazed at the boy, too cute for his own good. 

He walked over and crouched in front of the boy, holding out a hand to lead him on stage. The child looked to his mother first, a silent question of permission. Both parents simultaneously nudged him forward, and the boy stretched out his tiny hand, grasping Dan’s tightly as his eyes widened. 

“Looks like we’ve got our first volunteer, Bri,” Dan announced into his microphone, slowly leading the boy up on stage. He clutched the teddy bear in his arm, squeezing it around the neck and nuzzling into the bear’s head. The audience all made an “aw” sound in unison, and Brian smiled.

“I’m going to assume that you’ve picked out a child already. They can’t all be kids, you know,” he teased, folding his arms and relaxing on the bench where he was seated. 

Dan snickered, shaking his head and redirecting his attention back to the little boy. “What’s your name, buddy?”

“Michael,” the boy whispered into the outstretched mic. He immediately snuggled back into the teddy, and the audience once again sighed altogether at how adorable this little kid was. Even Dan couldn’t help but join in that time. 

“Alright, Michael, why don’t we get started? Can you show everyone what you brought today?” Dan asked in a calming tone, hoping that he wouldn’t scare or overwhelm the child. 

Michael firmly nodded, then stretched out both his arms putting the bear on display for everyone to see. 

“Must be pretty impressive,” Brian mused with a smirk, then held out his hand impatiently. 

Dan knelt down and whispered a question of permission into Michael’s ear, asking to take his teddy for just a second. Nervously, the child pulled his bear a bit closer, nestling his face into its head.

Smiling sweetly, Dan pushed down on the head of the bear, revealing the sweet blue eyes of the child he’d chosen from the audience. The child looked at him nervously, expectantly.

“We can hold it together, if you want,” he whispered. “You don’t have to give it up. I promise.”

Michael pondered this for a moment, then nodded. He held the bear out towards Dan, clinging to one of the heavily-patched arms; beaming successfully, Dan took the other paw in his hand. It felt just as worn as it looked. Dan wove the fingers of his free hand in between Brian’s and looked to his blindfolded fiancé expectantly. 

“Well, Ninja Brian?” Dan said with a sly smile. “What am I holding?”

Brian sat silently for another moment before turning his head to Dan, although not being able to see, and finally said, “Am I trying to guess the child or the teddy bear? Because you’re holding onto both of them.”

The audience erupted into applause, shouting, whistling even. Michael was even more surprised, ripping the bear from Dan’s hand and hugging it close to him, jumping up and down excitedly, wearing a big smile on his freckled face. 

Brian was laughing too, lifting one half of the blindfold off his eyes. “I’m gonna… guess that I was right?” 

Dan rolled his eyes and shoved Brian’s shoulder lightly. “Duh, you were right. Do you think everyone was just going to pretend?”

Brian scoffed, moving the blindfold back over his eyes. “Just trying to be modest.”

“Well, it’s not working,” Dan noted, walking in front of his fiancé and pulling the blindfold a little, just to make sure Brian couldn’t see. Brian hummed sweetly, instinctively nuzzling his head upwards, and Dan immediately pressed their lips together. 

Brian pulled back, a mock-surprised look on his face that almost instantly broke into a smile. “Daniel, we have a show to do,” he pretended to scold. 

But Dan truly couldn’t help it. That suit… made him irresistible. 

After another short bout of light banter and flirtatious jokes, Dan picked another volunteer. And another. Both had strange objects that they brought on stage, one of them being a durian and the other being a lipstick taser. The audience definitely came prepared to stump Brian, though it never worked. Brian truly had some sort of sixth sense, or at very least he was good at reading the tone of one’s voice and the sound of their body language. He had never disclosed how exactly he performed the trick, not even to Dan, but perhaps that’s what made it a fan favorite. 

After the trick had ended, each object being guessed successfully and effectively confusing and amazing the audience, Brian removed his blindfold and stood, wrapping an arm around Dan’s slender waist and pulling him alongside himself. He kissed Dan’s cheek briefly before turning to face the crowd. 

“We’re going to take a short intermission to prepare the stage for our final trick of the night. Dan… are you going to wear that dress in the tank of water?”

Dan snorted, shaking his head. “Of course not. I brought a wetsuit, Brian.”

Brian nodded once, sharply. “Right, yes! Sit tight everyone, and we’ll be right back for our last amazing trick!” 

The curtains closed swiftly and fluidly, the blinding spotlights shielded from their eyes and darkness encapsulating them. Brian turned his head to examine Dan’s expression, finding his eyes still blown wide, completely starstruck as usual. He loved the feeling of adoration -- they both did. It was… intoxicating to have so many people cheer for you and practically praise you. 

Hand-in-hand they walked offstage and off to their dressing room. They didn’t have too much time, only about ten minutes for everything to get in order, for the tank to be brought out onstage and for Dan to change into his wetsuit. 

They rushed to get into the tiny room, Brian nearly slamming the door behind them before he practically pounced on Dan, pinning him up against the wall of their room. Dan gasped softly as Brian pressed his lips to the crook of his neck, his hands traveling up and down the smooth fabric of Dan’s dress. 

“No hickies…” Dan practically moaned before Brian bit down on his skin, not hard enough to cause a bruise but enough for Dan to grip the front of Brian’s suit for stability. “We still have a… a show to do…”

Brian stepped back, allowing Dan to catch his breath as he pulled a pocket watch out, examining the time. “We’ve got… eight minutes. That’s enough time.”

Dan snorted as Brian kissed along his jaw. “Maybe for someone suffering from premature ejaculation, Bri. We can’t do this right now.”

The older man groaned frustratedly before stepping back and folding his arms. “Just get into your wetsuit and then we’ll see if we have enough time.”

Dan just shook his head, laughing as he stripped out of his black dress. Even though he had his back turned to him, he could feel Brian’s eyes watching his every movement. He hung the dress back on a hanger, trying his best to smooth it out; he truly did want to wear that dress at least one more time. When he turned around to grab his suit, he found Brian grinning at him, his cheeks a light pink. 

“What are you smiling about?” Dan asked as he started to slip into the wetsuit.

“You’re just… gorgeous. Everything about you is just beautiful and I’m just… so lucky,” Brian tried to explain, getting tongue-tied along the way. It wasn’t like him to have to struggle to clearly describe his emotions, and that’s how Dan knew he meant it. 

Dan zipped up the back as far as he could on his own, simultaneously trying to hide how red his face had turned. “You don’t look half bad yourself, with your fancy suit and shit.”

Brian stood and walked over to Dan, zipping the back the rest of the way before moving his hair to nip at his neck. “Thank you,” he mumbled against Dan’s skin, causing him to squirm at the ticklish brush of Brian’s stubble, “but we all know that you’re the real star of the show. No one would show up if you weren’t here, showing off your hips like you always do.” As he said that he gripped Dan’s waist and squeezed, and Dan covered his mouth to hold in a moan. 

“Brian, I already told you, we don’t have time for this,” he giggled as he moved Brian’s hands from his waist. “We need to get back out there.”

Brian sighed disappointedly, letting his head hang and kicking his feet like a toddler about to throw a tantrum. “Fine, I guess…” 

Dan grabbed both of Brian’s hands before kissing his forehead. “Are you ready?”

“Are _you _ready? You’re the one that has to do the trick,” Brian countered, squeezing Dan’s hands in his own.__

__Dan pondered his answer. This had always been the most challenging trick, and even though they had performed it successfully hundreds of times; it never ceased to make him nervous, even just a little._ _

__He finally nodded. “As ready as ever,” he stated confidently, leaning forward and kissing Brian softly, a silent promise that things would be okay. Brian kissed him back, just as softly, as if he was afraid to let him go. “Let’s do this.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruh, this chapter is my pride and joy. Heed the warnings we tagged, this one's a doozy. ;)
> 
> Hana

The velvet curtains parted, unshrouding the glass encasement centered on the theatre stage. The spotlights centered there, illuminating the bubbling water and metal shell that held it firmly together. To the tank’s left, a blue gymnastics mat; to the right, a large crane, with billowing motors that cranked and hummed as it situated the tank’s lid onto the wooden floor.

Standing beside his fiancé, Dan shivered. Sure, he had done this trick thousands of times-- it was, perhaps, the easiest one in the book. The Chinese Water Torture Cell, popularized by Harry Houdini. His most famous trick. Every escapist knew how to do it, and Dan was no exception; and, yet, there was a paralytic fear that crept up his spine each time it came into view. The way the padlocks clinked against the framework, the stagehands carrying in a trunk of restraints for Dan to embellish himself with to make his escape all the more astounding and magical… it left him with an unimaginable fear at the core of his gut that he, this time, could not shake.

The crowd murmured with curiosity, while many knowing fans hollered with anticipation. Brian waved his hands once, twice-- the crowd silenced at his will. He took Dan’s hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly, and wrapped his other hand around the microphone before removing it from the stand.

“Our final act of the night is one of our more popular acts,” Brian began. He looked to Dan and cued him away with a nod, sending Dan off to his mat for preparations. He looked back to the crowd. “In 1911, illusionist Harry Houdini created and popularized the Chinese Water Torture Cell Escape. It quickly became the symbolic act of all escape artists for generations following, such as the ever-talented Daniel over there on the mat.”

Brian continued with his explanatory spiel, leaving Dan alone in awkward silence with the stagehand left to assist him into his restraints. Vernon-- who, though shy, was incredibly swift with locks-- removed each restraint from the chest, placing them on the mat. A glass straightjacket, a set of handcuffs with a reasonably-sized chain, a key to the internal locks that would equal Dan’s freedom. A thick fabric gag was also placed onto the mat, simply for Dan’s safety; he had discovered that, when underwater, he could stand to inhale through fabric without as serious a risk of taking in water. With gentle hands, Vernon guided Dan into his straightjacket, securing him tightly.

“Now,” Brian continued, “as we like to do with all of our escapist tricks, one audience member will come up once Dan is secured to make sure that our locks are not gimmicks. The trick is 100% real, and 100% dangerous. Dan has practiced in full-view escapism since he was in his teens; he has been in countless situations that would lead to death, yet he has escaped without even a scratch. And tonight, it is our hope to do just that for you all tonight.”

Vernon secured the key in the back of the straightjacket, pulling it once to make sure it stayed. He then clicked Dan’s arms into the restraints, then his wrists, before gently helping Dan onto his back as comfortably as possible.

“Would one audience member like to volunteer?” Brian questioned, receiving deafening cheers in reply. He decided simply on a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties. She walked on-stage, greeted Dan excitedly, and tugged at each lock on each of his restraints.

Brian raised an eyebrow curiously at her. “Would you say that these locks are gimmicked in any way?” He leaned the microphone towards her.

“Not at all,” she answered. “They seem pretty real to me.”

“Alright,” Brian chimed, leading the woman off-stage as the crowd applauded excitedly. They died down quickly, however, excited for the trick to begin. “When Dan gives me the okay, his feet will be secured to the lid of the tank. Inside of the lid are two locks, each able to be unlocked with the key on Danny’s back. We will gag him, so that he doesn’t inhale water directly, and he will then be lifted via crane into the tank. Vernon and I will secure the outer padlocks, and it is up for Danny to escape within three minutes before he runs out of oxygen.”

Brian turned to his fiancé, looking at him with a peculiar worry in his eye. The lump in Dan’s chest that had yet to fade only tightened-- Dan elected to ignore it.

“Ready when you are, baby,” Dan cooed playfully, hoping the nervousness in his tone wasn’t apparent. God, why did this feel _different_? Why did this time feel so much… _riskier_?

The crowd cheered as Vernon returned to the stage. With hardly a step of hesitation, he slid Dan’s feet into the lid and secured them in their clasps. He tied the fabric over Dan’s mouth with caution, before leaning towards the escapist.

“Is that too tight?” Vernon whispered. “Can you breathe okay?”

Dan hummed positively, taking in an easy breath through his nose. Vernon shot him a soothed smile before standing up once more, brushing off his suit and hurrying backstage. The crane began to whirr, and Dan began to rise.

The crowd clammered loudly, watching as Dan rose above their very heads and into the air one, two, four, six feet. The adrenaline was tangible in each member of the crew; Brian was trembling with anticipation, and Dan clenched his eyes shut to stabilize the rush of blood to his brain. 

A loud thump, and Dan was centered above the water. He looked down into its bubbling depths, the gritted floor staring back at him impatiently. The adrenaline from staring into its eyes flushed away the anxiety in his body, leaving him with only the excitement of pleasing the crowd.

“Deep breath, Danny,” Brian ordered. “On the count of three.”

Dan nodded, shutting his eyes.

“One…”

Breathe in.

“Two…”

Breathe out.

“Three.”

Deep breath--

A loud splash, and Dan collided with the water. His body submerged itself into the airtight tank, pushing out what wouldn’t fit with his added volume, and he was immediately enveloped by the cold that his tomb contained. He opened his eyes as the outer padlocks were clamped shut, leaving him encased in the tank. He looked outwards, gazing towards the crowd that watched him with intrigue, with awe. He couldn’t disappoint them.

Dan blinked, centering his attention to his wrists: the first restraint.

Thirty seconds flashed onto the clock.

His thumbs pressed down onto two pressure points of his handcuffs, and Dan yanked his hands once, twice. He waited for the muffled click of them unlocking, freeing one hand so he could remove the other; yet, the sound never came.

Dan furrowed his brow. _Fuckin’ locks._

He switched cuffs, pressed down, yanked his hands. Still no click-- his hands were still stuck, leaving him immobile.

One minute.

Dan could hear the crowd cheering excitedly.

With growing concern, Dan ran his fingers over the cuffs, tugging at the latches. They shook with stilted movements, proving they were in working order.

_They’re just jammed. That’s okay-- I’ll just get my arms out. We’ll work on this later._

Dan moved to free his arms from the straightjacket, as he had plenty of times. However, something was stilting the fiberglass latches, keeping them from separating. He pressed against one latch and pulled, strained, fought against the restraint. It didn’t budge.

He tried his cuffs again. Something _had_ to budge. It just _had_ to.

He began to grow desperate, seeing as the crowd was oblivious to his struggles. Hell-- even Brian failed to notice, too distracted by the audience to pay attention to his partner’s dismay. He thrashed his hands against the metal, practically tearing at the chains; something in his hand immediately struck him with agony, begging him to stop. Likely a muscle or a joint he’d twisted.

Two minutes. Still nothing-- and Dan was running out of time.

Panic set in almost immediately. Dan fought against all instincts in his body that ordered him to breathe, and he shot his eyes about the room desperately for any signs of help. But all eyes were too glazed with anticipation and ignorance, not able to see that he should’ve been halfway done by now. 

_No one can see me._

How had no one noticed? 

_They aren’t going to help me._

They had to notice, right? 

_It’s so tight. I can’t breathe._

Someone would, right?

_Oh, God, I’m going to die._

Unable to stand the anxiety any longer, Dan thrashed his head back and forth, praying the knot on his gag would loosen. He ran his cheeks over the glass jacket, trying to move even a scrap of the fabric from his lips so he could slam it away with a nod of his head. And, as though the gods had heard his cries, the gag fell loose. It tumbled to the bottom of the tank, obscuring the bubbles that coiled up around Dan’s body.

His eyes closed, mentally preparing himself. He had no other choice but to scream his lungs out, use his last remaining air to call for someone to help him. He could feel a burn in his eyes as tears began to culminate on his lashline, and he fought another urge to breathe.

He had to scream-- no, he had to scream _for Brian_. The one person who he trusted, above all things, to save him. The one person who would come to his aid, pull him from the watery tomb and hold him in his arms and assure him things would be okay again.

With careful urgency, Dan brought every ounce of air from his lungs into his throat and released a blood-curdling scream. It was then that each eye in the room was on him; each person, noticing their fatal mistake. The onlookers with horror slowly dawning on them, the stagehands realizing with sudden panic that they had forgotten to prep for an emergency. They had forgotten, this one night, to bring the axe from the back room.

And Brian looked, too. His pupils seemed to shrink as he took in his fiancé’s predicament, still fully restrained, screaming his lungs out in the tank.

Three minutes. Dan’s screaming ceased, and his body recoiled violently, forcing him to take in agonizing amounts of water on a single breath.

The stage was thrown into a frenzy. Dan’s windpipe closed almost immediately, suffocating him with a harsh burning sensation that pushed downwards into the depths of his chest. He screamed again, choking, wailing from the pain shooting through him. He was convulsing, trying to free himself, at all loss of all self-control; but each movement only made his restraints feel tighter, so much tighter. With blurry eyes, he could see people hurrying around the tank with rings of keys.

He could hear shouting over his sobs. _The locks are jammed. The keys aren’t working. He’s stuck. We can’t get him out of there. Someone help._

Dan had a minute-- hell, probably less-- of consciousness left in him. After that, his life was left in the hands of whatever deity took claim over him, whichever deity Dan was currently begging to decided to listen.

As he sobbed harder, he inhaled again. His throat felt like it had been impaled, and he moaned in agony, desperately trying to get free.

_I can’t breathe-- oh, God, I can’t breathe--_

“Call 911!” Brian’s voice was loudest over all of the commotion. “Please, someone, call 911! _Anyone! Someone fucking do something!_ ”

Brian. Hearing his voice only made Dan thrash more, trying to get to something familiar and comforting. It felt so cheesy, but everything in his mind was rushing around all at once, and Brian was the only sturdy thing that didn’t seem to blend away. He needed that security, and it was so far away from him.

From outside the tank, Brian was stumbling over his trembling legs to get to where Dan’s face was. He had to keep Dan calm-- he was losing air. He sunk to his knees on the wooden floorboards, pressing his hands against the freezing glass, banging on it with his fist to bring Dan’s eyes to his.

The look in his partner’s eyes made him shiver. So icy, distant, fearful; they didn’t look like Dan’s eyes. No, they were a stranger’s. A terrified, vulnerable stranger’s.

“Danny!” Brian called out. “Listen to me! Stay with me, Danny! Don’t you fucking leave me!”

Though he nodded, it was obvious that he wasn’t listening. Dan only continued to convulse, sob, scream, fight against everything in his body telling him to give in to the abyss.

And Dan’s eyes closed. Slowly, his butterfly eyes fluttered shut, his head lolled back limply in the current of the water. The last bubbles of air trickled from between parted lips, coiling into the glass and chains. His movement stopped completely, as though he had been shot. Brian could only freeze, all tracks of motion and thought ceasing. All but one.

Dan just died right in front of him.

Before Brian could think to react, he was shoved away by greedy hands. He tumbled to the floor, his shoulder knocking against the wood just as the loud sound of glass cracking echoed through the theatre. He looked up in surprise to see Arin, drenched in anxious sweat, holding a fire extinguisher in his hands. He reeled back, breathing in, before thrusting his arms forward again.

Under the heavy weight of the extinguisher, the glass crumbled. It split into fragments on the ground, spilling gallons upon gallons of water around their feet. The already-panicking audience shrieked at the sudden dampness of their shoes and pants, and many of them dropped their cell phones into the gushing waves.

Arin reeled back once more, thrusting the container to the lid of the tank. The clasps shot open, like a mail slot, and Dan clattered to the ground like a ragdoll. Brian couldn’t help but cry out as the glass straightjacket shattered on top of him, throwing his arms to his sides and leaving his chest covered in shards.

He was motionless.

Trembling, gasping, Brian was at Dan’s side. He fell to his knees on the glass, pressing his hands into it to shove it away from Dan’s chest. They pricked his skin and he hissed, but he didn’t care as he threw Dan’s body into his lap.

It was something out of a nightmare, how his head lolled to one side as water seeped from between his lips. How his body was cold, so cold, and his instinctive touches on Dan’s cheeks elicited no response.

Maybe this was the trick, the illusion. Maybe Dan would pop up behind him and wave his hands, yell “surprise!”, press Brian into a kiss. Maybe Brian would be pissed for a few days, but come around, knowing Dan only meant for a harmless prank. Maybe Dan was okay. God, he would give absolutely _anything_ for Dan to be okay, for this to not be real.

It was when he felt not a single pulse rate that Brian began to realize that, no, this was real. This was very, very real.

“Danny,” Brian whispered hoarsely. “God, baby, come back to me. _P-please_ , baby. Don’t leave me. _Please_ come back. _Please_ , I-I--”

Across the auditorium halls, paramedics shot in. Their stretchers and equipment clattered noisily on carpet floors as they rushed to Dan’s side, playing what felt to be a game of 20 Questions with a man who didn’t know whether to answer or scream.

“He’s not breathing,” Brian could only scream, “please, God, h-he’s not breathing!”

Dan was ripped from Brian’s hands, and he cried out in rage. He tried to stand, but two hands grounded him firmly, while similarly pulling him from the glassy floor. He tried to rip himself away, tried to chase after them, he had to get there, he had to get to Danny, please, _God--_

“Brian, _stop! Stop!_ ”

Arin’s voice smacked him hard, bringing him to reality. 

“They’re the paramedics, let him go!”

Brian ceased to fight Arin, instead choosing to stare at the paramedics as they hurled themselves through the loose doors of the emergency exit. There was a brief blur of Dan’s paling face, his soaking hair turning navy in the moonlight, the doctors compressing his chest, people screaming orders over his body like he wasn’t even there. Their words were intangible to Brian’s ears as he watched them with blurred senses.

He looked away with burning eyes. He couldn’t to watch it.

“Arin,” Brian choked out, “ _Danny_ , he--”

“I know. I’ll call Suzy and let her know I’m taking you to the hospital, okay? I’ll drive you. I don’t trust you on the road by yourself.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he shot back. “I-I’m fucking _fine_ , I can drive myself just fine.”

Arin shook his head, moving his hand towards Brian’s shoulder. Tender fingers only grazed his shoulder before he shoved himself away, curling in on himself defensively, creating a shield with his upper body.

“Don’t touch me!” Brian snapped. “Don’t _fucking_ touch me! I-I--”

“Brian,” Arin retorted. “I know you’re upset, but we need to catch up to the ambulance. I’m not going to put up with this, okay? I’m not fucking putting up with this.”

Closing his eyes, Brian nodded. He took a trembling breath as soundless tears slipped from his eyes.

“He wasn’t breathing, Arin,” he whispered helplessly. “H-he wasn’t breathing.”

“I know, Brian. I know.”

Through the auditorium walls, sirens began to blare their droning calls. Shrieking wheels turning on asphalt as they made their way towards the hospital, so many miles away, it seemed. Brian looked at Arin with helpless eyes, bloodshot and agonized.

“Come on,” Arin whispered. “We’ll catch up if we leave now.”

They exchanged a solemn nod before running outside into the moonlight, Brian trying to ignore the glass shards in his knees.


	3. Chapter 3

The drive to the hospital was… quiet.

 

In the car, both Arin and Brian were silent, unsure of what to say, unsure of whether to comfort the other. Brian wasn’t sure he  _ could _ say anything, words failing him and his mind going completely blank of everything except the horrifying image of Dan dropping to the floor, the glass shattering over his chest, his limp body laying on a pile of glass as water flowed from his lips. It was all he could see. Each time the memory replayed, it was like a knife jabbing into the back of his head over and over, his forehead throbbing painfully as he struggled to hold in his tears. 

 

Arin desperately wanted to comfort him, wanted to place a hand on his shoulder and reassure him that Dan was alive and well, that they’d be able to bring him home soon and that everything would go back to normal. But Arin knew just as much as Brian right now; Dan could very well be dead. It was just one big guessing game and no one had an answer right now. 

 

As they began approaching the hospital building, Arin sighed heavily. He was afraid of what would await them inside there, of what news they would receive. He glanced over to Brian, who was sniffing and wiping his eyes, trying to appear as though he hadn’t just had a major break down, and tried not to frown at his miserable look. “It’s gonna be okay,” he tried to comfort, but it was as if Brian hadn’t heard him at all. There was no response, neither in his expression or in his words. He simply sat in silence, staring down at his feet.

 

After parking the car and walking a good distance to the ER, they came face-to-face with the sliding door, the barrier between them and Dan. Brian stopped short of the door, staring inside as if Dan would just walk out, like he wasn’t injured, like it was just a prank. He was going to come walking out any second, he was going to hug Brian and say that he took the joke too far. It couldn’t have been real. It couldn’t.

 

“Are you okay?” Arin asked, turning around once he realized Brian wasn’t following him anymore. 

 

Brian just shook his head. Words were failing him. 

 

“You can’t see Dan from out here. We have to go inside,” Arin tried to reason, grabbing Brian’s hand in his own and squeezing. “He’s going to be okay, but we have to go inside.”

 

“He’s… not. He can’t be. He’s dead,” Brian muttered, looking off to the side. “Why would I want to visit a corpse?”

 

“Stop that.” There wasn’t a tinge of comfort in his voice as he stated that, trying to put a stop to Brian’s pessimism. “That’s your fiancé. Do you  _ want _ him to be dead?”

 

Brian didn’t look up. He didn’t respond.

 

“Brian, do you really think that Dan is dead?” Arin asked in a softer voice now, squeezing Brian’s hand once more.

 

“I… don’t know. I hope not. But… he wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t feel his pulse.”

 

“People come back from stuff like that all the time. But we’re not going to know if he’s alive or not if we stand out here. We have to go inside. Okay?” Arin explained, giving him a small smile, trying his best not to show how scared he truly was. 

 

And finally, Brian nodded and took a step forward. 

 

The hospital was truly nightmarish. 

 

It felt like something out of a lucid dream, the way the ER waiting room was lit too bright, with each person waiting either on the verge of tears or already crying, some of them holding onto their head, their stomach, their arm, writhing in pain or even crying out. As Brian sucked in a deep breath, he could practically taste the lemon lysol spray that covered every surface, and the undertone of iron that wafted through the air like a disease. The room was nearly full of patients and families waiting to be helped, only a small handful of empty chairs remaining. Everything made Brian want to vomit. It was all too much.

 

The only thing that was keeping him calm was Arin’s hand in his. It was the only thing he could focus on that didn’t make him feel like screaming. 

 

They quickly approached the reception desk where they found an older woman seated there, typing away at her computer with a phone held up to her ear. 

 

“Excuse me,” Arin said in a hushed tone. He was answered with a single finger held up to silence him as the woman continued her call. 

 

That was… frustrating.

 

He took a deep breath and waited patiently as the receptionist finished her conversation and hung up, then turned to them with an annoyed gaze and an unamused frown. 

 

“How can I help you tonight?” the woman asked, looking to Arin.

 

“Our friend was taken here. We wanted to see if we can visit him?”

 

“Name?” she practically interrupted.

 

“Uh, w-what?” Arin stammered, slightly confused.

 

The woman sighed, clearly annoyed. “What is his  _ name? _ ” 

 

“Dan Avidan,” Brian whispered, a tear sliding down his cheek and onto his shirt. 

 

The woman leaned forward. “Speak up,” she demanded, pursing her lips.

 

“Daniel Avidan,” Arin enunciated, his frustration starting to come out just a little as he stared the woman down.

 

She clicked on the computer, typing in a few letters then stopping. “I don’t see a ‘ _ Daniel _ Avidan’ but I see a  _ ‘Leigh _ Daniel Avidan.’ Is that what you meant?” she asked with a passive-aggressive smirk.

 

Arin tried to refrain from groaning. “Yes, Leigh. He goes by Dan.”

 

The receptionist shrugged, “Well I suppose it pays to be specific, doesn’t it?”

 

Arin clenched his teeth as he nodded once. He couldn’t yell at her. Not here, not now. Not when Brian was weeping quietly behind him.

 

“What is your relation to the patient?” she asked, looking back to the computer screen.

 

“Brother,” Arin lied through his teeth.

 

“F-fiancé,” Brian stuttered, more tears welling in his eyes. His hand slipped from Arin’s as he clenched his fists, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. Arin rubbed Brian’s back gently, trying to soothe him.

 

The woman’s expression twisted and she looked to Arin. “It says in his chart that he’s in critical care right now. Visitors won’t be allowed until he’s stabilized, and even then, only you,” she pointed to Arin, “can visit him. It’s family  _ only. _ ” 

 

Brian’s gaze shifted slowly from the floor up to her wrinkly face, anger boiling up from his stomach and into his throat. “I  _ am _ his family,” he argued quietly, trying not to explode at this woman. 

 

“Sorry, I can’t hear you when you mumble like that,” the woman answered with a sly smile. “Anyways, we’ll let you know when  _ you _ ,” she pointed to Arin once more, emphasizing that Brian was not allowed near Dan, “can visit him.”

 

Arin leaned forward on the reception counter, getting up in her face. He could smell her bitter perfume and the heavy scent of cheap coffee on her breath, see her shitty makeup job, her fake lashes, her graying hair. Everything about her was sickening.

 

“You said only family can visit Dan, right? That’s… that’s real interesting because, you see,” he glanced down at her nametag, “you see,  _ Karol _ , we’ve been doing volunteer work for this hospital for… wow, almost five years now?” Arin looked back at Brian, who was nodding. “Five years of volunteering and we’ve  _ never _ heard that bullshit rule of yours before.”

 

Karol was visibly growing more uncomfortable by the second, leaning back in her seat to try to create some distance between her and Arin. “It’s a new rule. Maybe you just haven’t been here in a while.”

 

Arin scoffed. “Or maybe -- and this is just a thought -- but  _ maybe _ you’re being a homophobic piece of shit. Because in all the years I’ve been in this hospital, not one single time has anyone refused to let an engaged couple see each other. Is it just because Brian is a man? Would it have been different if he was a woman?”

 

“Of… of  _ course  _ not! It’s not like it would make a difference anyways. You  _ really  _ want to know how he’s doing? He’s  _ dead _ . That f-ggot is  _ dead _ . Happy now?” she practically spat at Arin, a sneer unfolding on her face. 

 

In an instant, Brian was on his knees. The world around him was suddenly numb, suddenly silent; hell, he hardly noticed when he felt his glass-pierced knees fall against the porcelain, knocking his hands down to break a fall he wished he’d missed. Sobs that he had been trying to force down bubbled to the surface as he wailed miserably, ignoring anyone or anything around him. 

 

Arin, meanwhile, gripped the counter, trying to stabilize himself, trying to process what she had just said. He wasn’t sure if he should be angry, or if he should be devastated; the only thing he was truly certain about was the absolute malice dripping from his breaths as he glared the receptionist down. The way she looked at him without any sense of regret, how she stared at the crumbling man beside him as though he were nothing… it made his blood boil. He could feel something inhuman taking over him, tears welling in his eyes, as he prepared to reel his arm back and--

 

Brian.

 

Instead of pulling his arm back to punch this receptionist- Katelynn, Karol, whatever the hell her name was, he wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm and looked to where Brian had once stood. If he thought about it, he couldn’t remember seen Brian cry before; or, at least like this. Knees to his chest, his entire body shaking, sobs resembling screams pushing out of his throat, like it would bring his partner back from the dead. It made the fire in his blood freeze over with chills; this man, so stoic and simplistic, had become broken glasswork on the floor beside him. And that  _ bitch  _ behind the counter was still staring at him in disgust, her features reflecting the evil in her soul, giving light to the true villain that dwelled within her.

 

Arin crouched down next to Brian and wrapped his arms awkwardly around him, trying his hardest to comfort a man who had never before needed comforting. By now, they had captured the attention of other families waiting, other nurses as well; everyone seemed to be staring at them as they simultaneously broke down. The sound of hushed whispers was louder than anything else, everyone wondering what had happened, some of them even pulling out their phones to tape the whole thing. 

 

Finally, a voice broke through the too-loud mixture of mumbling and weeping. 

 

“Karol, what the  _ hell _ did you do now?” 

 

Brian almost immediately quieted. He knew that voice. 

 

“I haven’t done anything!” the receptionist answered in a sickly sweet tone. “I was just relaying information to these two gentlemen when out of nowhere they started screaming! I was simply doing my job!” 

 

Brian watched the nurse fold her arms. “Well,  _ clearly  _ there was some sort of issue here.”

 

Karol shrugged. “All I did was tell them that their f*g friend is dead. I don’t see how that’s an issue.” She was so nonchalant about the whole thing that it took a second for anyone to really understand what she had said. 

 

Suddenly, there were two nurses hovering above Karol. Then three. Then five. Each nurse began to add her own input, preaching to the receptionist- God, her name was slipping- that she had done wrong; the noise was so collateral in Brian’s head, banging, pounding, causing the nausea in his chest to bubble upwards towards his throat. He covered his ears, sobbing harder, silently begging for the noise to stop. He needed silence, he needed peace. He needed to grieve, and they wouldn’t even let him do that. He was just… thrust out into the world again, like they were supposed to adjust to Dan’s presence being absent. That Brian had to resume his normal schedule for the night. One that revolved entirely around Dan. He was breaking, in Arin’s arms, begging the noise to stop, make it stop--

 

And it did. Only one voice took up the space where multiple had been, the same voice that pulled him from his terror the first time.

 

“Karol, we’re sick and tired of your… your… just… get out of here, now.”

 

The old woman tried to fire back, her raspy voice cracking as she piped up from the silence. “But I didn’t--”

 

“ _ Now _ .”

 

Just like that, it seemed, it was over. The nurses disbanded, the receptionist huffed and stood from her chair before spitting-- literally spitting-- towards Arin and Brian. The only person behind the desk was a younger woman, jet black hair pulled into a ponytail that slicked her face to be round and innocent-looking. Arin looked up at her from where he was crouching, running his hands down Brian’s back, desperately trying to soothe him.

 

“I’m sorry about her,” the nurse offered. “She’s… I just… I don’t even know. I’m sorry.”

 

“I-it’s okay,” Arin responded back. His voice wasn’t as strong as he’d hoped it’d be.

 

“The patient is Leigh Daniel?”

 

Arin had to process it. “Yeah, that-- yeah.”

 

A couple of clicks. The nurse made a sound somewhere between a wince and a sigh, before clicking the mouse hard and standing up straight.

 

“If you two would like to follow me to a more private place…” the nurse pressed, asking without phrasing the question. Arin stood on wobbling legs, trying to drag Brian off the floor and nearly falling at the weight of someone who was still too weak from crying to focus on himself; but, with a bit of patience, Brian was standing again. The nurse led them down the hall into an emptier room, lit with lights not as harsh as the lobby’s. She shut the door behind the two as they crawled into the room, sniffling and radiating with anger all at once.

 

Arin helped Brian up onto a sofa in the room, watching the way Brian curled up instantly, pulling his knees to his chest and sobbing helplessly. It was heartbreaking to watch him fall apart this way. 

 

“I’m not really supposed to do this,” the nurse started, leaning back against the door, “But I’ll go and get any info I can find on him. I know how much he means to both of you.”

 

Arin looked up and almost smiled at her, “Thank you. That would mean the world to us… well, mostly him,” he said, gesturing to Brian. 

 

The nurse nodded once, then quietly exited the room, leaving Brian and Arin alone.

 

\----

 

Arin had seated himself on a couch, and Brian nestled himself under Arin’s arm, still crying and shaking like a leaf. They hadn’t really been speaking, more so just sitting in silence, listening to each other’s breathing, to Brian’s quiet sobs, to Arin’s erratic heartbeat. 

 

It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago everything had been going smoothly, that Brian had been discussing wedding cakes with his fiancé, that everything had been okay, that Dan had been alive. He slid his engagement ring off his finger and twirled it between his fingers, admiring it. His ring was black with a gold trim, and a small diamond inside it. It was… perfect. Gorgeous. He loved it. 

 

He loved Dan. 

 

“I probably don’t have to wear this anymore, huh?” Brian muttered, clasping it in one hand, pressing it to his chest. “It’s not like it means anything.”

 

Arin looked down at Brian. The tears had stopped streaming down his cheeks, and his sad expression had been replaced with a numb one. “What are you saying? He’s not dead, Brian.”

 

“You don’t know that. No one knows that. Why the hell would Renée take so long if he was alive?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “He has to be dead. I saw him die.”

 

“You didn’t  _ see _ him die. He didn’t die, Brian,” Arin answered a bit short. “He fell. The paramedics got to him and now they’re fixing him up. Everything is going to be fine.”

 

“And how the fuck would you know that? He wasn’t breathing, Arin. He was dead. No pulse. No breathing. I saw him die. I’m not making that shit up.” Brian was pushing himself away from Arin, standing up for the first time in what felt like years. “You weren’t the one that had to cradle him in your arms after he fell, after his straightjacket shattered on top of him. You wouldn’t know.”

 

“Neither would you! I know just about as much as you right now, so how can you be so quick to assume that Dan is dead? It’s like… it’s like you  _ want  _ him to be dead! Did you even love him?” Arin was shouting now, sitting on the edge of the couch, his shoulders tensed and face turning red with rage. 

 

“How could you say that? I loved him, you asshole! He was my entire world!” Brian shouted back, the hand holding his ring pressed hard against his chest as he struggled to hold back tears. “I’ve been with him for five fucking years, so why the hell would I want him to be dead? I want to marry him! I want to be with him until the end of my life! How could you say something like that?

 

“You  _ love _ him! He  _ is _ your entire world! He’s not dead, Brian!” Arin stood up now, glaring down at Brian, who was starting to tremble. “Stop saying he’s dead! If you really loved him you wouldn’t want him to be dead! You wouldn’t keep saying shit like that!”

 

Brian folded his arms angrily, “If I didn’t love him, I wouldn’t even be here right now! I wouldn’t be sitting here crying,  _ mourning _ over the fact that I watched him die in my fucking arms! I would have left, Arin! I loved him!”

 

“How could you give up so easily? I’m here too, Brian! I’m crying, but I’m not mourning like a goddamn fool because I have  _ hope _ that he’s still alive and that everything is gonna be okay! Have a little faith in him!” Arin retorted. 

 

Brian lurched forward in what Arin initially thought to be some sort of attack, but heard the choked sobs erupting from Brian’s broken body, and instead wrapped his arms around the man. “I’m s-sorry,” Brian wept, pressing his face into Arin’s chest. 

 

Arin felt like an idiot. Was this really the time to be yelling at him? The love of his life could… potentially be dead. He could have just lost everything, and yet he thought it was a good time to have a shouting match in a hospital waiting room. What kind of monster was he?

 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this right now. You need me and… I’m being an asshole,” Arin muttered, resting his chin on the top of Brian’s head, hugging him tightly. “Just please don’t give up. Dan is stronger than you think.”

 

Brian sniffed and nodded against Arin’s chest. “I’m just… I’m terrified, Arin.”

 

_ Me too, _ Arin thought. “Don’t worry,” he said instead, “Everything is going to work out.”

 

Just then, they heard a light knock on the door. “Everything okay in here?” Renée’s soft voice questioned as her head peeked into the room.

 

Both men nodded silently.

 

“Why don’t you come with me? I’ve got something to show you guys,” she said with a grin. Brian and Arin glanced at each other before scrambling to the door to meet her. 

 

There were a million questions being asked all at once, but Renée wasn’t saying a thing. She simply smiled and kept walking forward toward the reception desk. Brian was holding Arin’s hand tightly in his own, his knuckles starting to go white and Arin’s hand starting to throb from the pain, but he didn’t say anything. Tears were starting to well up in Brian’s eyes again, and he furiously blinked them away, trying to be as strong as he could for whatever awaited him up ahead.

 

“Don’t touch anything, but come behind the counter here and look at the computer screen,” she whispered low enough that they could barely hear. Clearly, she wasn’t supposed to be doing this.

 

There was a lot of information on the screen, ranging from blood type and body weight to diagnoses and procedures taking place. But that wasn’t important in the moment. What  _ was _ important was the imagine Renée was pointing to.

 

A heart monitor. A heartbeat. Dan was alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Evander: @friendevan on Tumblr  
> Hana: @justiceina-steelmachine-ofdeath on Tumblr


End file.
